


The Hot Spell

by Huntress69



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The witch gave Sam a love potion, but guess who fell madly in love with him? Not the witch....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hot Spell

**Disclaimer: Want 'em. Need 'em. Can't have 'em. Nuff said!**

**************

"Dean, that's enough!" Sam admonished, trying his damndest to get Dean's right hand away from his zipper. The moment he succeeded, Dean's left hand took its place. "DEAN!"

"Aww, c'mon, Sammy, just a quick feel." 

"NO!" Sam took Dean's hands in his. "If you don't stop this touchy-feely stuff, I'm going to tie you up."

Dean pouted. "You'd really do that to me, Sam?"

"Yes," Sam nodded firmly, "I certainly will."

"Okay." Dean grinned and lay on his back, bringing his arms above his head. 

"What do you mean, **okay**?!"

"Usually I insist on dinner first, but you **are** my brother, so we can get straight to the good stuff and avoid the time-consuming foreplay."

Sam's eyes grew so wide he thought his eyeballs would fall out. "WHAT?!" He caught himself and took a deep breath. "You should have your butt whipped for saying that."

Dean sat up and brought his mouth to Sam's ear, blowing hot breath. "Promise?"

"Promise what?" Sam was growing a bit uncomfortable with Dean, who was now nibbling his lobe. 

"To whip my ass. I'm not really into whips, but if **you're** into that, I can deal."

Sam couldn't take anymore. This was too much. He managed to extricate himself from Dean's hands (or paws as he was beginning to think of them) and locked himself in the bathroom. He then did the one thing he **swore** he would never do.

He called his father for help.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

John Winchester was tired. If he were a normal man, with a normal life, he'd have said he needed a vacation.

He'd managed to track the shadow-beast (and Meg) through three states before losing track of the thing in Portland. Much as he wanted to kill her, he knew she was a pawn of evil and would get her just reward in time. Her final punishment would come, not from his hand, but from the evil itself and he knew for sure it would be more horrific then anything he could dole out. The only satisfaction he was able to get was leading the blonde bitch into a tough biker bar on a Saturday night. Even her 'patron' wouldn't have been able to get her out. Unfortunately that same night he had to leave town when evidence in a homicide mysteriously pointed to him. It was a pity. The voyeur in John really wanted a front row seat and the father within wanted revenge for the way she had hurt Sam. 

When he got Sam's message he nearly panicked. Something had happened to Dean and it must have been bad because he had told the boys to keep away from him, that it was too dangerous for them to stay in contact. The hunter didn't want to return the call, but the parent knew he had to. He'd been a distant father for far too long. Seeing them in Chicago had taught him that.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

The phone rang at three in the morning, John's shaky voice on the other end. "Sam, what happened to your brother?"

Sam wiped the sleep from his eyes and glanced at the other bed, where his brother was sleeping quite peacefully. Dean should have been; Sam had stuffed a seconal down his throat. 

Of course Dean being, well, Dean, he'd asked for more and requested Sam give him a beer to wash it down with. Then he quietly lay down and Sam assumed he went to sleep; Dean was snoring within seconds.

After ten minutes Sam stupidly decided to take a shower. He came out no more then five minutes after to find Dean smoking a joint and pulling down the curtains. Dean was about to set fire to them, saying they were the ugliest things he'd ever seen and they weren't good enough for 'his Sammy'. 

Sam chased Dean around the tiny motel room (and just how did his brother keep avoiding him in such a small space?) while Dean filled the room with smoke on purpose. Sam was feeling a buzz himself by the time he got hold of the joint and gave Dean the usual (and always futile) lecture on why drugs were bad.

Dean pointed out that Sam gave him seconal and Sam wondered aloud if he should have just whacked Dean upside the head with a two by four. Dean giggled, grabbed Sam's ass, pulled him close and tried to kiss him. 

Sam pushed him onto the bed (getting groped numerous times in the process) and Dean didn't fight his brother when Sam did indeed tie his arms to the headboard. Then Dean asked Sam to do things to him that had the younger Winchester turning various shades of red. He was thankful when Dean **finally** passed out. Some of the things Dean had suggested had been quite kinky.

"SAM!"

John's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Did you take care of that demon in Duluth?"

"Yes we did and maybe you can explain to me why demons always choose Minnesota in the winter and Florida in the summer. Why can't they possess people in reverse?"

John was ready to pull his hair out, par for the course with his younger son.

"And we had some help from a witch. It's okay though; she was a good witch."

"A good witch," John sighed over the phone. "I have the only sons who go out hunting evil and run into Glinda. And what happened to Dean?"

"She wanted...and I couldn't...and I said no but she...."

"You're babbling, Sam. And what did you say no to?"

"She wanted me."

"Wanted you for what?" John was worried. "A sacrifice? You just said she was a good witch."

"She was...is," Sam insisted. "She wanted me for sex." Sam could feel the heat rising in his face. "She made me some hot chocolate and it was so cold out and I wasn't thinking and...."

"You drank it."

"Yeah. And it was a...a love potion and I fell asleep."

"And then....?" John really wanted to know what happened to Dean.

"I had a good sleep; I don't even think I dreamed. First time in years that I didn't...."

"Finish the damn story! I'm not getting any younger here!"

"She was waiting for me to wake up because as soon as I saw her, I'd fall in love with her. Except Dean got there before her and he was the first person I saw when I woke up."

"And now you're in love with Dean?" Serious as this might be, John didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Not exactly. The moment our eyes met he started to act all...I dunno...goofy."

"Goofy. Sam, you have an IQ that far surpasses both myself and your brother combined and that's the best adjective you can come up with?"

Sam was speechless; it took him a moment to form any words. "Dad, did you just give me a compliment?"

"No."

"Just checking."

" **Sam**...."

"The spell went all screwy and she thought it was hysterical. She said that Dean was in love with me because he was a man. If he was a woman, I would have been the one to fall in love. And she refused to give me an antidote. And...and...Dad, Dean tried to kiss me!"

John couldn't hold it in; he let go of his laughter. "He tried to kiss you?"

"I'm glad you think this is funny. I bet you wouldn't be laughing if he tried to kiss **you**!"

"Sam, calm down. I think I know what you have to do and I'm sure you're not going to like it."

"Try me, Dad. Nothing you could **possibly** say would shock me."

"Okay. How weird is our family?" John paused for a moment. "Not counting the three of us."

Sam had to think. "Cousin Ernie talks to trees, Aunt Aggie has five husbands - and she hasn't ever gotten a divorce and cousin Milo married his cat." Sam grinned. "They get along better then Milo and his wife ever did. Great-Aunt Emma buried two husbands - alive, cousin Jackie talks to the dead, although I do also so it doesn't really count...and that's just a few of the Winchester's. Should I continue with Mom's side of the family?"

"Son," John interrupted, voice calmer, "you're going to have to sleep with him."

"Who?"

"Dean."

"Why?"

"Because I said so?"

"I don't like sleeping with him. He always hogs the covers."

"Sam, I'm not talking about taking a nap with him."

"That's good, because I don't like taking naps. I'm usually more tired when I wake up then when I get a full night's sleep."

If John could have reached into the phone he'd have throttled his younger son. Sometimes when he talked to Sam, John felt like he was living an Abbott and Costello routine. How could someone so smart be so dense? "Sam, the only way to break a spell of this sort is for you to **sleep** with Dean. Do you get it now?"

Sam's mouth dropped open. Something **finally** fazed him.

"Close your mouth. You'll catch flies."

"How did you....?"

"It's a parent thing. We know **all** , even through a phone."

"That's so cool. Maybe it's a psychic thing."

John literally pulled at his hair. "It's not a psychic thing, trust me. And you have to do it. That's the way these kinds of things work."

"And you're okay with this?" Sam's eyes were huge again. "You're talking about...about...me and Dean!"

"Sammy, to tell you the truth, I couldn't care less. I could think of worse things you'd have to do to break this spell."

"I can't. And what?"

"Well, you could castrate him. That would solve things immediately."

Sam fingered his knife. No, that would be too messy. "What else?"

"You could break his kneecaps. That would most definitely take his mind off sex."

Sam thought about buying a baseball bat. No, that was out also. Not enough money for an emergency room visit and then there was the eternal guilt trip he'd go on. "Door number three?"

"You could put a scratch in the Impala. That would make him forget anything else."

"NO WAY! He'd have a nervous breakdown if his baby were injured. And then he'd kill me."

"It's up to you, Sammy."

"You're a lot of help, Dad. And quit calling me Sammy. It's **Sam**!"

"Let me know what you decide...Sammy." John hung up before Sam could reply and quietly fell into another fit of laughter. When he finally calmed again, he thought about what Sam would have to do. 

These were his sons; they were **brothers**. Did John really and truly have no qualms about them committing the unspeakable act of incest? 

He knew Dean was bisexual and had never given it a second thought. There was always something more important, like trying to kill demons and demons trying to kill you. John himself had played for the home team more then a few times. He'd never even been picky; any warm body sufficed when he wanted release.

John had met many of Dean’s dates, both male and female, over the years. He hadn’t approved of any of them. He wanted Dean to meet someone who would make his son laugh, a real laugh, not the one he used as a cover and also to keep him in line if possible. Dean needed someone who he could talk to, especially when things got rough. He needed someone who made him content enough that it dampened his restless nature. Dean needed someone intelligent and understanding enough to accept Dean for who and what he was, someone who wouldn’t try to change him.

When the lightbulb went off over his head, John promptly walked to the wall and banged his head against it a few times. "You've been wanting him to meet somebody like Sam!" As he thought about it more, he came to the conclusion that you do find love in the strangest places. "And it could be worse." He didn't know how, he just **knew**.

A few minutes later he had a new message on his phone from Sam, who asked his father one question about Dean's personal life.

John called him back, said "Yes" and hung up. 

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Dean is gay...bisexual," Sam muttered as he paced the room. "And nobody bothered to tell me. That's why Dad was so blase about the whole guy/guy thing." He sat down, took a deep breath and thought about Dean. 

Did he love his brother? Of course he did. And Dean loved him.

Could he have sex with Dean? Strangely enough, no second thoughts there either. He would do **anything** for Dean, no matter what. 

"Okay, Sam, your only problem is you know the mechanics of gay sex, but you don't know any specifics." He opened his laptop and surfed the net on the subject until his eyes closed and he allowed himself to fall asleep, only to be woken at the crack of dawn.

"Sam, could you please untie me?"

"I don't know, Dean. Are you going to get all...hands-on again?"

"I have the boner to end all boners and it's killing me!"

"Boner is **not** a word," Sam smirked and got out of bed. "And I'm not going to untie you unless you give me **your** word that you won't try to molest me."

"Sam...."

"Your word, Dean. I don't care what kind of spell you're under, I know you wouldn't break a promise."

"Okay. I promise. Is that good enough?"

"No. Tell me **exactly** what you promise and I'll untie you and you can go whack off."

"'Whack off' is not proper English," Dean replied, tongue-in-cheek. "A college boy should know that. And I promise I will not molest you."

"Also that you won't touch me."

"Agreed. No touching." Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's glare. "I promise." Sam untied him and Dean rubbed his arms to get the circulation going. 

"I get the bathroom first." 

"You know, Sammy, I **really** want to get my hands on your dick. Do you have any idea what my mouth can do?"

Sam walked right into the wall. "Dean, you promised."

"No, I promised not to molest you. I can talk all I want and you can't stop me." Dean pointed. "And the door is over there."

"Fine, talk all you want. It doesn't bother me."

"I think my cock is about nine inches erect. What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to relieve myself." Sam walked into the bathroom and locked the door. He washed up, lathered with shaving cream and began to move the razor up his face.

"Sam," Dean actually whined, "can I give you a blow-job?"

"OWW! Dammit Dean, I'm trying to shave here."

"I can shave you, Sammy. I did when your right arm was broken the year before you left for college. I can make it an erotic experience."

Sam pulled the door open. "Shut up or I'm going to end up slicing my throat." He closed it again.

"I'm gonna jerk off now, Sam. My right hand's going to fist my thick cock and I'm going to stroke **real** slowly...."

Sam put another nick on his face. "The Impala is so dead."

"I heard that!" Dean shouted. 

Sam flung the door open, having given up on the shave. "I don't give a flying fuck!" He stalked over to Dean and Dean backed up. "If you say one more word I will personally drive that car to the nearest junk yard. Understood?"

"I just love it when you take charge." Dean leered and licked his lips. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."

Sam picked up his shirt. "I want you to shut up."

"Nope, wrong answer Sammy."

"Get dressed."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know yet. And I am driving. You are in no condition to."

Dean tossed him the car keys and finished putting his clothes on. 

"No argument?" Sam was a bit wary. "You hate it when I drive."

"You can do whatever you want. I told you that. And where's my weed?"

"You are **not** smoking that shit in the car! It's a felony."

"Okay, Sam."

Now Sam was suspicious. Dean was being too compliant. But he couldn't very well let Dean drive in his current state. He picked up his duffel and motioned Dean to do the same. "The grass goes in the trunk."

"You're no fun," Dean pouted again, but did as he was told. 

"Life's a bitch," Sam muttered. He walked out first and completely missed the wicked grin that came to Dean's face.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Stop that!" Sam was trying to concentrate on the road. "Remember your promise."

"I promised not to touch **you** Sam, not myself."

"Put it back in your pants, Dean," Sam warned. "We're gonna get arrested."

"Jerking off is **not** a crime."

"It is on the interstate in broad daylight!" 

"The offer to blow you is still good." A few more strokes and Dean came, licking his fingers one by one then swiping his tongue over the palm.

Sam glanced over and swerved, nearly hitting another car. His cell rang and he flipped it open to answer, but Dean snatched it away. "Give me the phone, Dean."

Dean ignored him, grinning at the caller ID. "Hi Dad! Guess what? I'm gonna give Sam a blow-job."

Sam took the next exit ramp and pulled over. He grabbed the phone and smacked Dean in the head.

"DAD, SAMMY HIT ME!"

Sam opened the door and stepped out. "He's out of his fucking mind!"

"Sam, calm down," John told him.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN! Stop telling me to CALM DOWN! He just took his dick out in the car, while I was driving, and jerked off!" 

"I could have lived without that vision. And didn't you do what I told you?"

"I couldn't," Sam admitted. "There's got to be another way."

"There's not, trust me."

"Dad, he is way beyond horny."

"Sam, there is more to these spells then meets the eye."

"You're telling me," Sam mumbled as he hung up and got back into the car. "Dean, I need you to please behave while I'm driving. I really don't want to..." he chose his words carefully, "...injure the car."

Dean frowned and patted the dashboard. "He wouldn't hurt you, sweetheart. Not if he wants to live to see twenty-five."

Sam started the engine, wondering if they could find a nearby shrink. He really needed one.

"Can I blow you now?"

Sam felt the hand on his thigh. "No touching!"

"C'mon Sam. I'll make it good, really I will."

"No touching me **or** yourself. Understood?"

"Okay, Sam." Dean put on his best pout. "I won't."

"And stop making that face." Sam shifted into drive. "You look like a lovesick twelve year old."

Resting his cheek on his palm, Dean sighed. "I am lovesick." He leaned over but Sam shoved him back.

"SIT! STAY!"

"Sam, I **really** do love it when you take charge."

Sam slammed on the brakes. "Think junkyard, Dean. Think pieces of this Impala spread out across all fifty states."

"I'll behave." Dean placed his hands under his legs. "See, this is me behaving."

"Fuck you, Dean," Sam muttered under his breath as he got back on the road.

'Not yet Sam,' Dean thought, as he eyed his brother's burgeoning erection; Sam was turned on and didn't even know it. 'But soon.'

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean kept his word **and** kept his hands off Sam and himself. But his mouth was another story entirely.

He began to describe, in graphic detail, twenty-two different sexual positions, all involving two men and a few with toys. 

Twenty-four year old Sam Winchester, who had an IQ of one hundred and sixty-four, learned what a butt-plug, a cock-ring and rimming were; for the first time in his life he wished he had remained ignorant.

At hour two and a half, Dean started with the first of seventeen dirty limericks.

The younger (and, bright as he was, still sort of naive) Sam just **had** to ask his older brother what the phrase 'golden showers' meant and when Dean explained, Sam nearly drove off the road again.

By the time three hours had passed Dean's hands took on a life of their own and, with full apologies, rubbed Sam's crotch. Sam pulled over and tied Dean's wrists, tightening the seatbelt so Dean couldn't move.

By the end of hour four, and a long and involved (and once again graphic) tale of an orgy on a Maui beach, Dean was gagged as well. 

"Cnstplun?"

Sam pulled the gag out. "What was that?"

Dean licked his dry lips. "Can we stop for lunch?"

"We'll do drive-thru."

"I want to get out of the car. We've been driving for over four hours. I'll behave, Scout's honor."

"You were never a boy scout."

"I was too!" Dean insisted. "Before...before Mom...I was a Cub scout."

"Really?" This was something Sam had never heard.

"Yeah," Dean looked thoughtful. "She said I looked grown-up in my uniform. But we moved so I had to leave the troop." He peered out the window. "Look! McDonalds!"

"I hate that shit."

"Wendy's?"

"No."

"Burger King?"

"No."

Dean grimaced when Sam parked the car. "Aww, Sam, not Tofu again...."

"That's what you get for opening your fat mouth." Sam untied his brother. "Please Dean, don't embarrass us."

"I won't Sam." Dean gave him a small smile. "And I'll even eat bean sprouts without complaining." He kept his word, making faces while he ate, but remained complacent. The moment they left the restaurant, Dean shoved Sam against the car and kissed him...hard. 

Sam was totally unprepared, not only for the kiss, but for the hands that groped his ass and the erection thrusting against him. "You want me, Sammy," Dean purred in his ear. "I know ya do."

Sam just stared at him and got back into the driver's seat.

Dean got in and his wicked grin returned full blast. 

Sam hadn't said no.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

There weren't any problems with Dean for the next two hours. Once in the car he lay his head back and went to sleep. 

After a while Sam didn't want quiet. He wished Dean would allow him to install a CD player, but the older man had refused, saying it would ruin the classic car. So Sam put in a cassette of some current Top 40 hits, but the Impala's tape deck kept spitting it out. He tried Mariah Carey and the Black-Eyed Peas, but the player ate the tapes. He decided to 'feed it' Dean's favorite Motley Crue tape (which Sam detested) but **that** played fine, as did Led Zeppelin and The Ramones. Thinking all was well, he popped in his Usher tape and the player spit it out so fast, the tape shot into the back seat. "The fucking car is possessed!" Sam said aloud.

"My baby doesn't like that modern shit," Dean muttered as he opened his eyes. "Where are we?"

"We just passed Peoria," Sam told him, eyeing the tape deck as if a demon would pop out. 

"We're in Illinois?" Dean stretched as best he could in the seat. "Did you decide where we're headed yet?"

"Orlando," Sam flat out told him. "I don't want to see another snowflake for the next year and I've never seen Shamu."

"Orlando...." Dean did some quick calculations in his head. "It should take us about eighteen more hours. But you're driving, so we can cut that to fifteen or so." At Sam's curious look, Dean shrugged. "I memorized a map of the United States. We stopping soon? I have to take a leak."

Sam was taken aback. He'd half expected Dean's hands to reach over and grab him. "You're really a low-life, you know that?"

"That's why you love me," Dean laughed. "I'm the complete antithesis of you. You'd probably say you had to use the lavatory."

"Antithesis and lavatory. Wow, I'm impressed. You **do** know words with more then one syllable." But Sam was tired, he'd been driving for almost seven hours. He spotted a Holiday Inn and stopped. Due to a convention they only had one room left. It had one bed and Sam decided he'd sleep in the bathtub...and keep the door locked. He still hadn't decided what he was going to do about Dean. Yet when they got to the room, he took one look at the bed and exhaustion took over. Sam had barely released his duffel from his hand when he pretty much fell down onto the mattress. " **You** can sleep in the bathtub." He heard Dean rustling through his duffel, squinting as the light went on. "It's a non-smoking room."

"Fuck off, college boy," Dean smiled. "This is still America. I have rights also." He lit a cigarette. 

"Dean, we'll get thrown out of here." Sam pointed upwards. "These sprinkler systems are some of the most sensitive in the country. Go outside and take another day off your life."

"Fine," Dean said happily and closed the door as he walked out.

Now Sam was wide awake...and thinking. Dean's demeanor had changed since the previous night. He hadn't tried to touch Sam since he'd woken up, nor made any sexual innuendos. Sam was pretty sure the spell was broken and called his father to tell John he was wrong, that Dean was fine now and they hadn't had to have sex.

He got a call back, John telling him that he **was** right and to just wait a little while. 

So Sam waited for Dean to come back...and waited...and waited. He grew concerned after almost an hour had passed and went on a search for his brother. He stepped outside and looked around, but no Dean. Seeing the sign down the road blinking **POOL HALL** , Sam knew just where Dean had gone. 

"Hiya, Sammy," Dean grinned as he spotted his brother. "I got us some money." He nodded to the bills on the edge of the table. 

"Of course you did, Dean." Sam picked up the bills. "Time to go back to the hotel."

"Sam, let me keep playing. I just know I can get us some more traveling cash."

"I know Dean, but it's time to get some sleep." Sam took Dean's arm and was pleasantly surprised when Dean allowed it. Oh yeah, Dad was most definitely wrong and Sam would prove it.

They returned to the room and Sam made it a point to cover all entries with salt. He didn't want to be interrupted by demons tonight. Pulling the covers back, he stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed. Dean attempted to get in on the other side, but Sam shoved him away. "Tub."

"Aww, Sam, I'm tired. I need to sleep."

Sam agreed, but only because Dean both looked and sounded pathetic. "Whatever." He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

Dean didn't sleep and made his own call to John, who actually answered when he saw who was calling. He also managed to wrangle further information from his father. After three hours he decided Sam had slept enough. He took the pillowcase and tore it in two....

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"Sammy?"

"Five more minutes, Dean," Sam tried to turn over but found he couldn't. His wrists were tied above his head. "WHAT THE FUCK....?"

"Turnabout is fair play, little brother," Dean knelt beside him. "What should I do with you?" One of his fingers trailed down Sam's chest and back up. 

Sam felt the cool breeze and realized he was naked. "How did you manage this?"

"Everytime you started to wake up, I whispered that it was only me and you relaxed. I guess you felt safe." Dean sucked at one spot on Sam's neck, leaving a small bruise. "You ever done it with a guy?"

"No and I'm not sure I want to now." It was the truth. 

"You have to, Sam. It's the only way to break this...lust spell."

"You know?"

"Of course I know." Dean pinched one of Sam's nipples and Sam yelped. "I won't hurt you, not unless you're really into pain. I do recall you mentioned something about a whipping...."

"NO!" Sam swallowed hard and pulled at his bindings. "Dean, I don't like this and I don't want to be hurt."

"Relax, Sam. I'm only teasing. I wouldn't do that. And you're going to fuck me, not the other way around."

"A little difficult considering my position!" 

"You have a lot to learn, little brother." Dean leaned down. "I want to kiss you." Sam turned his head and Dean straddled his hips, placing his palms on Sam's face, holding his head still. "We can't go on like this. If we don't break the spell now, it's going to get much worse."

"How do you know that, Dean? Maybe, in time...."

"I talked to Dad." Dean chewed on his lower lip. "This type of spell, it doesn't just go away."

"I'm afraid," Sam admitted. 

"Nothing to be afraid of, Sammy." Sam couldn't help but moan as Dean traced his lips with tongue. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"Dean, I **really** don't want to do this."

"Would you prefer to wait until I lose control and rape you? You're going to say 'no' one too many times and I won't accept it. It has to be now, while I still have some control over what I do."

"Dad told you that?"

"Yeah, he did. He didn't tell you because he thought we would have done it already." Dean stole another kiss, deeper then the first. "Please, Sam, you have to help me."

"I know," Sam admitted that also. "I think I knew as soon as Dad told me."

"I'll make it good for you, Sammy, I promise." Dean blew in Sam's ear, whispering, "I'm going to take you to Heaven."

Sam laughed a little. "To infinity and beyond?"

"Way beyond." Dean kissed Sam again. He was hard as granite, but had enough awareness left to know he had to give Sam pleasure before he took his own. Dean's eyes didn't leave Sam's as he kissed his way to Sam's chest, licking each nipple. He pulled at one with his teeth, then moved across to suckle the other. He kissed further down Sam's lean body, taking his time, kissing the bare flesh, tasting every inch. "Want me to suck you, Sam?" 

Sam couldn't speak anymore, his voice was gone, so he nodded his head. 

Dean fisted Sam's cock, sucking the head. He gathered the moisture on his tongue and showed it to Sam before he licked his lips. He covered the tip again and as slow as he could, swallowed Sam's dick. His eyes finally moved as he concentrated on what he was doing. Dean moved his head up and down, sucking harder, moaning deep within his throat. He held Sam still as Sam began to buck up; Dean wasn't about to allow him release yet. 

Sam fought hard to control his breathing; he was pretty close to hyperventilating. He so wanted to fuck his brother's mouth, but Dean was preventing it and Sam didn't know why. 

Dean was lost in his own little world, nothing existed but Sam. Not just Sam's dick, but Sam himself. Glancing up he saw Sam's eyes were shut and he moved his head, spitting on his hand, then swallowed again, leaving trails of saliva along the length. His hand slid to his own ass, finger-fucking himself, first with one finger, then two. Raising up, he straddled Sam's body again, bracing his left hand on Sam's chest to keep himself balanced. 

"Why'd you stop?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean didn't answer; he held Sam's dick steady with his right hand and lowered himself carefully. God, this was good. He hadn't been with a man since Sam had come back into his life and had last bottomed long before that. 

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam felt the head of his cock resting against Dean's hole. "Dean?"

"Loving you." Dean gave a breathy sigh, his head falling back as Sam entered him. Once Sam was sheathed within, Dean stilled, growing used to the sensation again. 

Then Dean began to ride. 

He moved slow at first, but picked up his pace, coming to the point where he lifted himself up, practically off Sam's cock and slammed back down. His hands moved to Sam's chest, fingering the nipples, leaning down to suck on them. He bit Sam's shoulder; he moaned and howled, shouting "FUCK ME!" and "HARDER!" and "DEEPER!" Dean told Sam how good he was, how good his dick felt, so thick and long, how they should have been doing this years ago. 

Sam, poor naive Sam, who had never, in his wildest dreams, considered doing **anything** like this before, was thinking the same thing. He was canting his hips as best he could in his current position, gritting his teeth as he strove to impale Dean, meeting every downward motion of Dean's with a strong thrust up. His eyes were wild and he didn't even realize the words spewing from his throat. Dean was 'hot' and 'tight' and 'so very beautiful'. He begged Dean to jerk off, wanting to watch Dean come.

"You first," Dean insisted and slammed down one last time.

Sam was coming inside Dean and panting for breath and Dean was shouting "I LOVE YOU SAMMY!" and shooting over Sam's chest as he gasped for air. 

Dean was grinning, fully satiated and he slipped from Sam, laying atop him. 

Then he rolled to the side and passed out cold.

Sam caught his breath and just stared. "Bastard!" Sam couldn't get loose and he was unable to sleep in this position. He spent the next few hours counting every crack in the ceiling and thought of more then a few ways to kill his brother. Not because of the sex, mind you. That had been great. 

No, Sam didn't want to kill him **because** of the sex; it was the fact that Dean had passed out and left him tied up. **That** had made him homicidal. Sam felt his brother stir as he made it to murder variation number thirty-nine (stuffing Dean into a trash compactor). 

Dean slowly came to consciousness and felt more groggy then usual. He knew he wasn't alone in bed and ran his fingers over the body next to his; the very naked (and male) body. He wondered how he'd convinced Sam to leave him alone with a strange man. 

"Dean? Are you awake?"

"Sam?" Dean's eyes snapped open when he realized his brother **was** the naked male body next to his. He backed off the bed, taking in his brother's current state. And his own. Sam was indeed naked and tied to the bed and Dean's ass had a familiar feeling....

"Can you please untie me?"

Dean was frozen on the spot, still staring. "How...why...." He remembered - the witch, the spell...the sex. Dean sat down again and wiped his hands over his face. "You told Dad?"

"I didn't know what else to do. And my arms are sort of numb and I really don't want to spend the rest of my life TIED TO THIS FUCKING BED!"

"Sorry." Dean pulled at the knots. "Just a second; I make strong knots."

"No shit Sherlock." 

Dean couldn't get Sam untied and went for his knife, making it a point not to touch his brother as he cut Sam loose. 

The moment he was free Sam flew into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Dean sat there, guilt washing over him, knowing that he'd crossed a line that should never have been crossed. Everything was coming back in a rush. Yeah, he had bottomed, but it was still rape. 

"Dean?" 

Dean looked down; he didn't even realize Sam was kneeling between his legs. 

"What's the matter?"

"I hurt you, Sam, forced you."

"First off, you didn't hurt me. And second, I'd like to do it again."

"WHAT?!"

"Without the bondage part," Sam amended, and lay his head on Dean's leg, fingers caressing up and down Dean's thigh. "But if you don't want me...."

"I cut you loose and you went...." Dean nodded to the bathroom.

"Uh, I had to go and...you know...." Sam smirked. 

"Oh." 

"Oh, he says." Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't you have to....?" He nodded to the bathroom. 

"Yeah." Dean shot up and went through his morning absolutions. He came out and Sam was laying across the bed wearing a filthy leer.

"Come here, Dean."

Dean took a step forward and paused. "I dunno, Sam. You look...."

" **Move**."

The tone left no room for argument and Dean did as he was told. When he was close enough Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed, crawling between his legs. 

"Now," Sam began, "I **have** decided I am **not** into being tied up and if you try it again I'll kick your ass. But at the same time, I have also decided that I am into you. Yeah, I know it's perverse and illegal, but I figure we're going to burn anyway so we might as well go for eternity in the ninth ring of Hell." He smiled shyly and leaned down for a kiss. Last night he had been so involved in Dean's touches he hadn't realized how soft Dean's lips really were. The kiss grew deeper, harder and Sam finished with a nip to Dean's lower lip as he allowed them both some air. "Not to steal your lines, but you taste **really** good."

"You have no clue of what you're doing."

Sam kissed Dean's neck, licking the pulse point. "I learn **best** by doing." He marked Dean the same way Dean had marked him - with a clearly visible purple bruise. "And I'm certain you'll be a good teacher." 

"Sam...."

"Was that a 'Sam stop this right now'," Sam licked his upper lip, looking coy, "or a 'yes, Sam, keep going, I'm loving it'?"

"I'm so fucked," Dean laughed.

"I'd sure as hell like to be." Sam took Dean's dick in his fist and stroked slow and easy. "I want to know what it feels like Dean, to have you inside me. I'd like to ride you myself."

"That takes lots of practice, Sam."

"What should I start with?" Sam was genuinely curious. "What do you like best?"

"Whatever you do Sam, will be my favorite thing from now on, I promise you."

"Can I blow you?"

"That's kind of a crass thing for a college boy to say." Dean lay back and relaxed. "But if that's what you want to do, who am I to stop you?" 

Sam shifted back so he could lean down. "You've got a pretty dick, Dean."

"And how many have you seen up close and personal?"

"Just one and that's all I need to see." Sam blew on the head, watching the precome seep out. "You like that." He lapped at it, getting his first taste of his brother. "Sweet." He licked his lips, mouth descending....and his phone rang. Sam lifted his head and reached for it, but Dean beat him to it.

"If you stop...."

"Not stopping, I swear." 

Dean saw the caller ID. "Not now!" But he answered the call, knowing he had no choice. "Hi Dad." Dean did his best to keep his voice steady; not easy with Sam's mouth licking the length of his dick. His eyes widened as Sam sucked the tip into this mouth. 

"Are you all right, Dean?" John was a bit concerned. 

Sam stroked Dean's balls softly, tongue dipping into the slit, before swirling it around the head. "I'm...I'm fine now." He carded his fingers in Sam's silky hair, reveling in the feel of it and pushed Sam's head further down. Sam had half of Dean's length in his mouth and ran his tongue along the thick vein, making Dean gasp.

"Dean, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes sir, never been better." 

"Let me talk to Sam."

Dean tried to lift Sam's head, but Sam seemed very happy where he was and refused to move. "He's...uh, he can't talk right now."

"Why?" 

"He's kinda...busy at the moment." Dean's brain was beginning to check out of his body. Sam didn't seem to have a gag reflex and took Dean deep, working Dean's cock as if he were a pro. 

John heard Dean's soft moan and suddenly felt his cheeks flame red. He didn't need to be a psychic to know what was going on at the other end of the line. "Jesus, Dean, you're on the phone with your father!"

"Sorry, Dad, but I have to hang up now." Dean closed the phone and began to thrust deeper. Sam was so good at this and Dean didn't even consider the fact that his brother, despite having a sinful mouth, was a novice. He didn't think as he wound his hands in Sam's hair and held his head still, his cock hitting the back of Sam's throat.

It was the sound of Sam's choking that brought him back and he released his hold, dragging Sam up and atop his body, rubbing his back as Sam caught his breath. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I got a bit carried away."

"'S'okay," Sam smiled. "I want you inside me, Dean. I need this from you." He slid off, reaching for Dean's hardened shaft, his spit making Dean's cock slick. 

"Ah, sweet and innocent Sam." Dean palmed Sam's face and kissed him. "Spit is not proper lubrication."

"It's what you used."

"Trust me when I say it's not easy like that. I could hurt you."

"You could never hurt me, Dean." 

Dean stroked Sam's hair. "You have that much faith in me?"

"I love you, Dean. And I do trust you. I trust you with my life every hour of every day. I've trusted you with my very soul since I can remember. Why shouldn't I trust you with this?"

"I...I don't know what to say, Sam."

"Say that you love me. Say it was something special and not just another fuck for you."

"You're a romantic sap." Dean cradled his brother in his arms. "And I think I'm a sap also." 

"Dean, you didn't answer me."

Dean tilted Sam's face to his; his brother looked pretty lost. "Sam, I love you, this is not just another fuck for me. This may very well be the first magnanimous relationship I have ever been in."

"I think the word you're looking for is monogamous," Sam corrected, with a small smile himself.

"That too, Sammy." Dean rolled them so he was laying on top. 

"Then what does it mean?" 

Another kiss and Dean was grinning. "Gentle, noble, upperclass...shall I go on Sam?" 

"Wow, there is a brain in there." Sam playfully slapped Dean in the head. 

"I bet you thought it was full of sawdust, didn't you?" Sam didn't answer and Dean began to stroke up and down Sam's ribs. "Didn't you?" Then the tickling started. "Say I'm smart."

"NO!" Sam was laughing harder now. 

"Say I'm smarter then you!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT!" 

"Admit it, Sam. I'm the true brains of this outfit."

"OKAY! YOU'RE SMARTER THEN ME!" Sam was still laughing when Dean's hand moved down to his cock, then he slowly stopped. "You're way smarter then me." 

"Are you sure you want this, Sam? Because once we do this, without a spell, there's no turning back."

"Stop throwing out cheesy lines and teach me to make love to you."

"Ask and ye shall receive." Dean threaded his fingers in Sam's hair. "No turning back."

"No turning back...." Sam matched the move and pulled Dean's mouth to his. 

This kiss was different then the others; it was filled with tongues and teeth. Hands moved over skin that was dripping with sweat, nails raked and left scratches. Words were moaned, lust and passion were felt.

They were on fire.

It was Sam who grabbed a hold of Dean's swollen dick and pulled close, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist and pulling him inside. 

"Sam...oh God...I'm going to hurt you."

"No, I told you, you could never hurt me." His head lolled backwards as Dean slid in, and yes, he felt pain, but it was a good kind of pain...at first. Then it hurt. The pressure was almost unbearable and he nearly screamed for Dean to stop. 

"Sammy, I love you...."

The same words Dean had spoken the previous night, but this time they were different. Sam arched his body and dragged Dean all the way in. 

There was no pain anymore. 

Dean reached for Sam's legs, pushing them back against Sam's chest, taking what was his and his alone. "Nobody is **ever** going to touch you again. Nobody but me."

"Nobody but you," Sam clenched tight, drawing Dean in deeper. "JESUS!"

"Prostate, Sam."

"I know. I read about it. Think you can hit it again?"

"Oh yeah," Dean leaned down and bit Sam's shoulder, "'cause I'm smarter then you." He closed his eyes and thrust forward. 

"YESSSS!"

"Waaay smarter." Dean grasped Sam's dick in his fist, jerking him hard. "Gonna come for me now, Sam?"

"Ahh, oh yeah...oh my FUCKING GOD!" Sam lost it as he came, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Oooh, Sammy...." And then Dean was following Sam, toppling after, losing himself in his brother...his lover....

**~~~~~~~~~~**

When Sam came to he was laying in Dean's arms. "How long was I out?"

"A couple of minutes." Dean brushed the hair from Sam's sweaty brow. "Was it good?"

"What do you think?"

They shared a few playful kisses and grins.

"We are so fucked up," Sam mused. 

"Just another blip on the Winchester family tree," Dean added. "You okay, Sam?"

"Never better, bro'. I hate to sound like a fucking Harlequin romance, but I feel whole."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "I know what ya mean. It's like pieces of me have been missing for a long time, but I found them."

"Exactly." Sam lay his head on Dean's chest, Dean's arm wrapping around him. "Sleep now?"

"That's what **real** men do, Sammy."

"What?" Sam was curious. "Enlighten me."

"We eat, we fuck, we sleep."

"Uh, Dean, we didn't eat."

"You're right, Sam. We didn't eat." Dean thought about lunch. "We grazed."

"I'll tell you what. We'll sleep a little while and then go have some **manly** food."

"Steak?" Dean grinned hopefully.

"No money for that."

"I won seventy bucks in that pool hall."

"And **I** am holding on to it," Sam smirked. "If you're a good boy, I'll buy you a Big Mac."

Dean's eyes lit up. "With fries and a shake?"

"Large fries."

"Okay."

"You're so easy," Sam snickered as he made himself comfortable, closing his eyes.

"Not as easy as you, Sammy." 

"I heard that," Sam mumbled. 

"I know."

"And I can't believe Dad's okay with us being together, deranged family or not."

"I don't know if he's **okay** with it Sam, but you can't fight fate."

"Did he tell you that?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah. He knew this was coming eventually, that it was inevitable, and no, I didn't ask him how. But I wouldn't recommend we kiss in front of him...ever."

"How about when we see him next I give you a bloody nose?"

"Only if you kiss it and make it better."

"It's a deal, Dean."

"Goodnight Sam." Dean kissed the top of his head. "Sweet dreams."

"Mmm-hmm," Sam mumbled. "Love you too."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

"What are you doing, Sam?" Dean asked, wondering if Sam had gone off the deep end. "You're splashing holy water on my car."

"It's possessed, I swear. Like Christine or that other car movie...The Car."

"My baby is not possessed and I think you need a vacation. Orlando is looking better and better."

Sam ignored him and sprayed more holy water on the hood, mumbling a few words in Latin. 

Dean opened the trunk, staring at his stash, wondering if Sam had been...he quickly shrugged that thought off. The worst Sam ever did was Jell-O shots and then he tended to throw up and pass out. He closed the trunk and got into the driver's seat. He turned around to see Sam still speaking, as more holy water was splashed. Dean rubbed his fingers over the dash. "He just needs a rest. Behave for him, okay?"

Sam got in, Dean started the engine and Sam put his Pussycat Dolls into the tape deck. 

The car stalled.

"I give up!" Sam shouted and ejected his tape.

Dean restarted the car with no problem.

Sam picked up his tape and the car threatened to stall again. 

The two men looked at each other.

"Maybe she is possessed," Dean conceded.

"Led Zep it is." Sam popped in the tape and the car hummed as the opening chords of 'Black Dog' filled the car.

"Let's go, Sam." Dean grinned and lay his hand on Sam's leg, squeezing gently. "Shamu awaits."

**FIN**


End file.
